


Finish what you started

by Calanthedeservedbetter



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Dink is Not Nice, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Suspense, Twilight (Linked Universe)-centric, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calanthedeservedbetter/pseuds/Calanthedeservedbetter
Summary: Twilight digs a grave.
Relationships: Twilight (Linked Universe) & Dark Link
Kudos: 24





	Finish what you started

You dig the shovel into the ground. You undermine it with unusual finesse, lift it, throw it aside. Wet earth looks more like tar than rubble. It’s tacky and refuses to stick to the tool, it runs slowly down the spade, drips back down. You hang your eyes on your companions for a moment.

They sit in the same place as before, watching your every move. You know you should keep digging but you can't bring yourself to look away.

They sit on the porch under a roof while you drown in mud and cold raindrops. But it’s okay. You know it's okay. You see the way Hyrule rests his head against Legend's shoulder, how Warriors allows the veteran lean on his arm. They are all close to each other, almost _on_ each other. Just like dominoes.

A loud bang makes all the hairs on your body stand on end. You immediately jump to your knees but in amazement you watch your arms and legs sink into the mud. _He_ pulls you up. You feel these icy fingers trace each vertebrae in your spine. You can’t do anything but tremble like a frightened animal that you are.

“Hmmm come on, tell me, did I let you stop?” The voice sounds inhuman but somehow confusingly resembles your own. You don't like its sound.

Your throat tightens, the panic is increasing, it prevents you from thinking straight. Should you be doing something? You look around but all you see is a shallow pit and a shovel. You look at the heroes without understanding but they don't want to help you. They openly ignore you; Wind even puts his head on Time's lap. You feel envy sticking to your internal organs. You look at the shovel again but still don't understand what to do with it.

“Well, what do you think?” His tone is playful but you know better than to trust Him.

_After all, if you hadn't trusted Him, nothing would have happened._

You fall to the ground. No. _Someone_ knocked you down.

It’s probably just Warriors playing around. You try to get up, but you are surprised to find that you cannot tear your face away from the wet ground. Someone is holding your hair tightly. Then you realize it can't be Warriors. After all he’s--

he's sitting on the porch.

_They all are sitting on the porch._

Everyone except _you._

He pulls on your hair and after a while pushes your face back into dirt. You don't know when breathing became so hard.

When you think you can't take any more and you will pass out, he stops. You don't know why, you don't know how, but He always knows when your reserves are running low. He holds your cheek and wipes the dirt off it. The touch is gentle but you realize it's devoid of any affection, He just wants to spread it thoroughly over all unhealed wounds.

“Now, now,” he says softly, almost whispering. “Be a good boy and finish it”

He jams the spade into your hands. For a moment you consider whether hitting him on the head would do any good. You fantasize. You see his black blood soaking into black earth. The grip becomes unpleasant, nails are piercing skin.

“Ah, you forgot,” a statement, He never asks you. Not really. “That was to be expected… You must be very lost right now. Poor thing.”

He pats your hair like you are a dog.

In that moment, a part of you wants to turn into a wolf and tear His throat. But you can’t. The bracelet on your ankle glows bluish.

The only consolation is that He doesn't see it.

“See that pit?” He twists your head. When He doesn't get an answer, the grip on your hair becomes unpleasant. You nod abruptly. “It wasn’t so hard now, was it?” His hand is playing with your hair. He stops and you just wait for him to throw you into that hole. He doesn't.

“I changed my mind. I want you to put your thinking cap on. I worry about your constant forgetfulness,” He says, his eyesight distant. You don't know what's on his mind. You never know what his next move is. _You would never judge him for what he did._ “C'mon”

He's dragging you onto the porch. He pats the seat next to Him as a sign for you to come closer. You don't want to do this but you know you have no choice. The others are still watching you.

His hand is on your neck, you don't know if He’s afraid of you running away or if He just likes to play with you. You are more inclined to the second option. After all, it wouldn’t be easy to run away with a limping leg.

“You know what it is?” He points His chin at the pit.

You nod.

“A grave” you barely recognize your own voice; it’s rough and low and… _broken._

“That’s right,” despite the darkness, you can clearly see the expression on His face, some comical look pretending delightment. He is never delighted.

He immediately turns to face you; you twitch restlessly, fearing he has found a way to read your thoughts.

“Do you know who this grave is for?”

You freeze. Of course you know who the grave is for. How could you not?

You don’t answer. You hang your head down, you don't want Him to see your glassy eyes.

He pulls you closer, puts arm around, leaves half-moon marks on your bare shoulder. “Why so silent? If you know the answer just tell me. It’ll make everything easier, you know it wi--”

“Me. It’s for me.” you cut Him off and wait for the hit. But it's not coming. Instead there’s a silence.

“No, it's not!” He says after a moment and pats you on the shoulder in a teasing manner. You wince. “Why would it be?”

You want to say that it sounded better in your head, that you don't know anything, that you don't understand, that you want it all to end. _You don't say anything._

“I wouldn't do that,” He shakes his head slowly in disbelief. Everything in your body, every scar and burn wants to scream ' **LIAR** ’. “Not to you” He smiles slightly. “After all, you were the only one who helped me, the only one who _believed_ me”

“Only you were worthy,” he mutters to the shadows and grabs the strand of hair that hangs in front of your eyes. “I should cut it for you soon…” He plays with it for a moment and you stare at the floor, trying to focus on anything else.

“Does the situation seem a little clearer now?”

You still don't understand. You have more questions than answers.

He smiles slightly, almost friendly. Almost - because he looked the same on the day you brought Him starved to the camp. “Hey, hey!” He snaps fingers when He notices your lack of focus. “I know you can do it, you just have to try harder.”

You try to remember, you really do. Everything is hazy, blurred. You don't know, you don't understand. You feel a gaze on your back. You turn around. It's Time staring at you. He looks like he wants to tell you something, something important, you can tell that much; his mouth is open.

But he doesn't say a word.

“You remember now?” Dark Link whispers right into your ear. “Now that we have it over... finish what you started”

**Author's Note:**

> This one wouldn't be posted today if it wasn't for my math teacher who decided to NOT show up at retake. 
> 
> \----  
> Sorry for any mistakes - English isn't my first language.


End file.
